Prologue
Pop, pop, pop, BOOM!I propped myself up on my elbows, my eyes making a beeline for the window. For a brief moment, its frame filled with a blinding light. The rays were accompanied by a buzzing sound and a very distinct second "
boom".
Ann stirred in our makeshift bed. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, before tightly screwing shut again as she tried to ignore the clamor outside.
We had cleared the living room that night because 1) it was movie night, and 2) we needed space for the action to come in the later hours of the night, after a few glasses of cheap wine. We had moved the couch back as far as it would go, and plastered the coffee table as close to the side wall as it would get. Then, we had spread a soft, thick, wool blanket in the center of living room and made ourselves comfy for the ride (*wink wink*). At that moment, we were sandwiched together, burritoed in by the folds of the blanket. (I was hungry.) My arm had painfully fallen asleep underneath Ann's body, and my desperate wriggles to escape the confines of our burrito only jostled her more.
"Charlize,
what. The. FUCK. Are you doing? And what the fuck was that noise?" She griped groggily.
"Well first of all," I said, "I'm trying to escape this burrito of death."A grumble of acknowledgement.
"And second of all. Sounds like a transformer exploded outside." "A transformer? Like the talking robots?"
I sighed and rolled my eyes.
"Is it thunder showering?" She asked, smiling lazily at my reaction.
"Nope." I had finally managed to free myself. Playfully, I dumped what remained of my half of the blanket onto Ann's face, leaving her to struggle out by herself. Then I made my way to the window.
Either the transformer had short circuited, or someone or some animal was out there fumbling with it. If it was the latter, I was hoping to not see a charred body outside my apartment. Especially not a squirrel. I love animals. I was praying pretty powerfully for it to not be a squirrel.
Reaching the window, I threw the pane open and peered outside. The wind blew reminding that I was sticking my head out a window whilst being naked. I shrugged to no one in particular. It was just my head.
What I expected to see was a busted transformer maybe accompanied by some poor sucker who'd either killed himself messing with it, or been cooked pretty badly. In which case, I was prepared to call the hospital.
What I saw was much worse.
Across the street, a mostly black werewolf staggered uncertainly near the utility pole where the transformer was located. It had that distinct lope to it that said "I'm drunk but also hurt." Its back fur had been burnt away, revealing black and bleeding skin (black dogs have black pigmented skin, where other dogs have pink pigmented skin; I guess the same rules apply to werewolves). It had to be intoxicated to some level for it to have wanted to mess with a transformer. My suspicions of its stupidity were confirmed when I took note of the deep claw marks dug into the wood of the utility pole.
I watched with gross curiosity as the skin on the werewolf's back began patching itself, quickly clotting the muscles that had been scorched open with pools of dark, almost black, blood.
Beyond the werewolf, pass the apartments across the street, a thick plum of smoke was rising. In the distance, howls and screams pierced the air. The werewolf spotted me, snarled, and jetted off in the opposite direction, away from the smoke.
I waved Ann away as she approached the window. Remember
howls pierced the air. Werewolves were strong, with big shiny claws and snappers that could severe an entire human head with one bite. This one werewolf was clearly not the only one out there tonight. And a werewolf could very plausibly scale the measly 20 foot gap that separated our second floor apartment window and the pavement below. One would especially be most tempted to do so if he (or she) saw two delectable human faces and four diary makers invitingly sticking themselves out a cramped window frame.
Carefully closing the window behind me, I retreated back into our cozy apartment, going to lean against the kitchen counter.
Ann, while not having seen the werewolf, had seen the smoke curling up in the sky.
She snatched up the T.V. remote, punching a button at the top left corner. The television flickered to life, and I felt some form of relief. The transformer explosion had not affected our apartment, though I was sure the building on the opposite block would be in the dark for quite a while. Flipping through the channels, Ann stopped on the local news. We were greeted with the helicopter view of the
Fire From Beyond. It had done a wicked amount of damage to the Somabra neighborhood. Bloodied bodies were strewn across collapsed heaps of brick (walls fallen away from their buildings). People were limping off, guided by the cops that already responded to the calls for help.
For a brief moment, the helicopter view caught sight of a bright red fire engine, water gushing out powerfully from its industrial sized hose as it tried, with difficulty, to out the powerful flames of tonight's disaster. Ann covered her sweet lips with a hand, looking worried.
"It's a good distance away," I assured her. Honestly, I wasn't entirely sure how far away the flames were, and I wasn't really even sure that they wouldn't reach our neighborhood.
She crossed her arms and gave me the "be serious" look. I shrugged it off nonchalantly, thanking the year's worth of Academy Training I'd received in the force. Playing it cool was now a part of my human interaction arsenal.
Ann is a little bit shorter than I am, with short (boy cut short) black hair, in a kind of pixie cut, blue eyes, and olive skin. Kind of racially/ethnically ambiguous.
Very pretty, and cute, and sweet. Well, to me, anyway. She's got a few tattoos in all sorts of places, really beautiful ones.
She's scared. She's never hidden how she feels from me. Our relationship is a very open one, and she wasn't about the pretend to be tough and confident because we trust each other.
She sighed, coming over to embrace me. I received her warmly, reveling in the familiarity her body provided. As we cuddled it out, my cell phone rang on the counter. I'm not usually one to ignore calls, so with her permission, I reached out to answer it.
"Hello?""Sweety?""Hey, mom.""Thank god." Mom whispered away from the phone's receiver. Then,
"Are you girls okay?"Even though she couldn't see me, I nodded. Force of habit.
"We're fine," I said, trying to sound calm.
"There are werewolves outside." Great conversationalist, my mom.
"I know," I grimaced, and Ann looked up at me curiously,
"Do you know what's going on?""Rioting, though I don't know for what reason. Or, who started it." She said that bitterly, most likely thinking of our culprit with less than fondness.
"I'm going to have to go out with Chase." I was giving her the fair warning, because I knew she why she had called. To dissuade me from doing my job. I knew my mom well enough to know the first thing on her mind was my safety. If she could, she would slaughter a thousand vampires to keep me safe and sound.
She sighed, a frustrated and angry sound. I heard a beeping sound on my phone. Someone else was trying to call me.
"Mom," I said quickly, eager to hang up to the phone, knowing the person on the other line was most likely from the precinct or Chase, "I need you to do me a favor."
She grumbled her consent through the phone.
"Come here and stay with Ann. We've got an extra gun, underneath the bed, in a safe. Ann knows where the keys are if you guys need it."Sighed again and then,
"I'm not happy with your choice of profession, Charlie." Mom was one of the few people that called me Charlie. I wasn't particularly fond of the nickname, and had let it be known on several occasions in my adulthood. Still it persisted,
"It puts you, and the people you care about in danger," clearly referring to Ann here,
"And it makes me unhappy and sick with worry all the time. I just wish you had pursued a degree in graduate school." Another forlorn sigh.
"Yeah mom," I said briskly, eager to hang up. The other line had beeped three more times again,
"I've heard the whole spheel already. Are you going to come here or do I have to find someone else?" I was bluffing. I didn't know who else I would call. Ultimately, it would mean leaving Ann home alone with a gun and five bullets. Those were odds that I didn't look upon favorably.
"I'll be there in a few minutes." I heard a wooshing sound in the background. Mom was already on the move.
"Thanks mom. Love you."She sighed
again, but said,
"I love you too. Then the line cut off with a deep click.
I put the phone down and went back to wrapping my arms around Ann. I hadn't forgotten about the other caller, but girlfriend first.
"You got me a babysitter," she said begrudgingly, and I laughed.
"A vampire babysitter," I said, biting over my lower lip to form fangs. She rolled her eyes.
Chase is a great guy and a good, good friend. I trusted him; it was no big deal to give him keys to my apartment.
I was about to regret that decision.
Before either once of us could react, the door began to unlock. It was a quick process that told me someone wasn't breaking in; they were using a key. Here enters the regret.
The door flew open and there was my partner in crime-fighting, tie scraggly hanging around his neck, a slice of toast stuffed in his mouth, pants just barely pulled over his boxers. "No shame" is a pretty good phrase to describe Chase with.
He eyed us for a moment, naked against the counter, wrapped in each others arms. Then, ever so slowly, he closed the door, like a child who'd been caught in a place he wasn't supposed to be. I was blushing furiously, though Ann only chuckled.
"He'll wait for me out there.""I know," she said, giving me a deep kiss, "I'll see you later. I love you."
"I love you too. Mom will take good care of you," I assured her, making my way to the bedroom to get dressed,
"And remember, the gun."
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